


A Ride Home

by sadpendragon



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s05e04 Another's Sorrow, F/F, Forbidden Love, Horse Racing, Light Angst, Minor Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-18 14:22:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18122108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadpendragon/pseuds/sadpendragon
Summary: What happens if Odin didn't restore Nemeth to King Rodor?King Rodor and Princess Mithian get the help of Camelot and Gawant to take back their kingdom. Along the way, new allies and friendships are formed, and maybe something more...





	A Ride Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lion_owl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lion_owl/gifts).



> For Lion_Owl for Round 2 of the [Rarepair Swap](https://merlin-rarepair-swap.tumblr.com/)!  
> Not beta'd.

It had been a week since Mithian and her father had arrived in Gawant. A few days more since they left Camelot; after finding out Odin hadn’t held his word of a truce with Arthur. Odin had said he’d go back to Nemeth to withdraw his army, but the cruel king hadn’t; he had reinforced their borders and patrols and let everyone know that he still held Nemeth. They had all gone back to Camelot, taken care of her father’s injuries and immediately started working on a plan of attack. To Mithian’s surprise, it had been Queen Guinevere that had called halt—to all their rambling of a direct attack—and asked them to stop, think, and be more careful. Nemeth and Camelot shared a border, she had pressed, they would see the retaliation coming.

Mithian had frowned, “Then what? Do you expect us to just stay here and not do anything?”

Guinevere had simply smiled, “No, I suggest we be smarter about this.” She'd turned to her husband, “Is there a way for us to deliver a surprise or more subtle attack. Cut down losses?”

“Not really,” he’d said, “I know of a longer route that could contour Nemeth without passing the border but,” he had sighed, “they would still notice it if an army coming from Camelot went through it.”

Guinevere had looked down at her hands and sighed, “I see.”

Arthur had taken hold of her hands and squeezed them, “It’s a very noble thought of you.”

Behind them Merlin had been frowning, thinking. “They won’t notice it if it isn’t our army,” he’d suddenly said.

Merlin had moved even closer to the table, in between Arthur and Guinevere, and bent down to look more closely at the map. You could see hope rise on the queen's face, and a frown on Arthur’s.

“What do you mean Merlin?” Arthur had asked.

Merlin had pointed at a region South West of Nemeth, close to the route Arthur was talking about earlier. “Look.”

The queen had smiled, “Gawant.”

It was Arthur's turn to smile, he’d shared a look with his queen and Merlin. “Who so happens to be our allies,” he’d said.

“But...they’re not ours,” her father had said, “we have no feud. But we are no political allies, we have no trade together, nothing.”

“Don’t worry about that. You don’t have history of war, and trust me, King Godwyn and his daughter are one of the kindest people we had the pleasure of knowing.”

* * *

 

Mithian was looking out of the window of her guest chambers in Gawant and her thoughts strayed again as she was reminded about the way Princess Elena had greeted them; the way she had greeted her.

A beautiful blonde woman had practically ran to her before taking hold of her hands. “I am _so_ glad to meet you Princess Mithian.”

King Godwyn had coughed, “Elena…”

“Right,” the blonde princess had let go of her hands and curtsied, “Sorry, old habits die hard,” she whispered then cleared her throat, “It’s an honour to welcome you to our kingdom Princess Mithian,”—the princess eyes were glowing again and her speech fasten—”Arthur has told me about you in his letter and—”

King Godwyn had coughed again, and the blonde princess gracefully bowed her head as she went to stand next to him. He had rolled his eyes at the princess before smiling at Mithian’s father.

“King Rodor, I am pleased to introduce you to my daughter, Princess Elena.”

Princess Elena had curtsied gracefully as ever, _as if she hadn’t just ran down the drown bridge with her dress held up in her hands._

“Welcome to Gawant, King Rodor, Princess Mithian. We are happy to be able to make new friends,” she then looked behind them and smiled at Sir Leon, “and to see old ones.”

“When this battle is over, we will be greatly in your debt King Godwyn,” her father had said.

King Godwyn tilted his head to them and smiled, before gesturing them forth, “Come, servants will escort you to your rooms so you can rest.”

The princess Elena had cleared her throat then, smiled, and stepped closed to Mithian, taking hold of Mithian’s arm before her father could stop her with another remark, “I’ll be happy to show Princess Mithian to her rooms,” she’d proclaimed, and proceeded to drag her towards the castle’s entry. Leaving the servants to run after them.

Mithian only had time to look back slightly and share an amused smile with her father. Once her and Elena entered a different corridor than her father, and the servants guiding him, the princess had began to talk again, “As I was saying, before being so rudely interrupted before,” she chuckled, “Arthur told me about you in his letter!”

Mithian could only smile at her enthousiast. “And what did he say?”

“Well,” she’d chuckled, “we both almost married him.”

Mithian’s mouth had dropped open, before they both started laughing together.

“Wow.”

“Yes. He also said that you’re an amateur of riding, like myself.”

“Indeed I am.”

“I cannot wait to do some riding then, no lady in this kingdom cares for it,” she'd rolled her eyes slightly, “and my father barely lets me enjoy it as much as I would like to.”

“Let me guess,” Mithian had raised her eyebrow, “It’s not ‘ladylike’ and princesses have other obligations?” They’d shared a look and smiled. “Well, I’ll be honoured to ride with you Princess Elena.”

When they had arrived in front of her chambers, Mithian realised Elena’s hand was still firmly attached to her arm. The realisation had made her blush. Then Elena had turned to her, freeing her hand from Mithian’s arm. “Please just call me Elena.”

Mithian had felt the loss of her warmth greatly. “Then you may call me Mithian too.”

“I shall leave you to your rest then, Mithian, and see you at the banquet tonight.”

“I shall be pleased to see you there Princ—,” she’d sighed and smiled, “Elena.”

They’d both curtsied while holding a smile, before Elena left.

* * *

 

Now here she was, getting ready for their final meeting with King Godwyn, Elena, their advisers, and herself. There was not much to plan, it was only a formality, seeing as the troops had already departed, along with Sir Leon and her father. It had been a week, enough time for Gawant’s army to have arrived at destination. Which meant the planned day of attack was tomorrow. They had gotten word back from Arthur; they were finally going to enact their plans, both armies were ready. The meeting was a formality, they were only going to go over the letter together and overlook the next couple days events.

They were finally going to go rescue her people and take back their kingdom. So why did Mithian feel so bittersweet, as she marched down the corridor to the meeting room? As she walked, Elena caught up with her, they smiled at each other and walked together.

“So, tomorrow's  going to be very stressful,” Elena said, “I know we’re _only_ princesses,” she said sarcastically, “But they’re gonna find a way to drag us into everything.” Elena then shook her head slightly, “And anyways, I doubt we’ll be in the mood to party while knowing our men are out there fighting. So,”—she stopped walking and faced Mithian—”maybe after the meeting we could...go riding together? Another race?”

Mithian looked the smiling Elena in her eyes and her heart ached. But she smiled and nodded. “One last time,” she whispered, looked away, and walked forth again.

* * *

 

Mithian steered her horse to a stop and tried to calm her breath, while trying not to laugh, “You cheated!”

Elena turned her horse back around to face her, she was as out of breath and smiling as well.

“I totally won!” Mithian persisted.

Elena laughed and was wearing an amused frown. “No way!”

“You took a shortcut you minx.”

Elena winked. “That’s not cheating darling.”

Mithian bit her lip, before smirking, “Couldn’t handle your last defeat, now could you?”

“Last time?” she huffed, ”I totally let you win. Out of courtesy, as my guest,”—she shrugged and smirked—“that’s all.”

Mithian gaped at her, amused. She was going to miss this… She looked at Elena and smiled. Elena returned the smile, her broad and enthusiastic smile pulled at Mithian’s heart again.

Tomorrow morning, their troops from Gawant, Camelot and the few of their own escaped knights, were going to march on the ennemies hold in Nemeth. If everything went according to plan, they would have the strength of the element of surprise. Odin’s troops would be ready for Camelot’s army, who will be advancing first and up front. Their focus being on Camelot’s attack, they will be taken aback by Gawant’s troops coming from behind them. They’d be surrounded and Nemeth will hopefully be won back. She will be able to go home…

Mithian could still hear Elena's laugh, but her own smile slowly vanished as they rode back to the castle. On her second day here in Nemeth, late in the evening, Elena and her were sitting on a window seat. They were laughing, their faces leaning closely together.

“I can’t believe he just laughed with you when you burped back! And they all had the audacity to look affronted when I did it!”

When their laughing subdued. Mithian studied Elena. “I’m honestly having a hard time picturing you not being able to hold your burp. I mean, I think it’s safe to assume we’re both unconventional at times,” they both had chuckled at that, “but, you just seem to be really good at keeping your image on.”

A small crease had appeared on Elena’s forehead then, like she was just considering this. “Hmm yeah I don’t know it used to be harder for me then, but...something just started clicking,” she’d shrugged, “like I finally decided to actually use the stuff I’ve been taught,”—she rose her eyebrows comically—“be ladylike! I’m still an overexcited mess,” she’d snorted, “I guess I can just...control it better now. Just bow and smile, right?”

She’d smirked, “Like a good little princess.”

They had laughed together until a knight—probably send by King Godwyn—had awkwardly asked if Princess Mithian needed help to be escorted back to her rooms, and if she wanted him to send a servant to prepare a bath. Mithian and Elena had shared a look and snorted. Princesses knew when they were being supervised. They’d decided to not make it more awkward on the knight and bid each other goodnight.

Mithian will miss this. She had been able to be herself with Elena. They had connected since day one, laughing and joking together. Elena caught the sad look on her face but Mithian didn’t have the strength to hide it. Luckily Elena let it be, and they rode back home in silence.

* * *

 

Mithian was almost ready for the feast and dismissed her servants. As had been predicted, the battle had been won. It was the day after the battle and they had gotten word back from Camelot this afternoon. Tonight she would stay here, King Godwyn and Elena had organised a feast. It was to celebrate Nemeth being won back and new alliances. Naturally she was the guest of honour, as her own father had joined the battle fronts. Although Sir Leon, alongside Sir Kay (Gawant's first knight), had been the ones leading the armies from Gawant. Leon had been a sort of representative leader for her Kingdom, there were only a few Nemeth knights, so it was a symbol more than anything. He was there to support Sir Kay and Arthur had insisted he’d represent Nemeth. But her father had still demanded to be there, insisting it was his battle. But Mithian had asked him not to fight, and to her surprise, he had listened. He wasn’t going to battle, but he was going to be there regardless. Mithian assumed it was also so he could be in Nemeth when it was won back, he missed his country and it was actually a sound choice.

Mithian looked in the mirror to her bare neck. She was wearing a tight green dress, with closed wrists and golden details on her arms and bodice. Her dress was simple but elegant, but she wasn’t wearing any jewellery. She had dismissed all servants before they could get to work on accessories. But she was the guest of honour tonight, and she thought she ought to look a little more dressed up.

A knock came on her door.

“I don’t need any further assistance thank you.”

The door opened anyways and she turned her head to see Elena coming in.

“I came to check up on you. I heard you already dismissed all your servants? Are you finished?”

Mithian’s breath caught in her throat at the sight. Elena was wearing a golden yellow gown; representing her kingdom’s colours, she assumed, as she was. The dress was off the shoulders with long flared sleeves, her bodice fitted her tight, making her cleavage stand out beautifully. It was the first time Elena had worn something showing off her cleavage like this ever, since Mithian had been staying here. The gown was ornamented with beautiful brown leaves, and her hair was loosely bundled up at her nape. Her neck was fully cleared and _really_ attracted the attention on her cleavage.

Mithian had to look away, she stared at herself in the mirror again. “I’m almost done, I didn’t need any more help.” _I wanted to be alone_ , was left unspoken.

Elena went to stand behind her, their eyes met in the mirror.

“Hmm, something's missing.”

She stepped closer to her, bend down forward and took up a simple, but quite big, emerald green pendant. Elena placed the pendant around Mithian’s neck, her face was suddenly so close to hers. She closed the pendant and looked back in the mirror.

“Gorgeous,” Elena whispered.

Mithian couldn’t respond, she was holding her breath. Elena turned her head left again and looked Mithian over, staring at her hair. She was wearing it simply, loose, with two plaids bond in the back.

“Aren’t you going to wear your tiara?” Elena asked. Mithian cleared her throat and looked away, making due of finding her tiara.They found the tiara at the same time; their hands touched trying to get it. Elena smiled at her through the mirror again. “Let me.”

She placed the tiara perfectly in Mithian’s hair, she then took hold of Mithian’s shoulders, squeezed them lightly and smiled. “Perfect,” Elena said against Mithian’s ear.

Mithian took a deep breath and smiled. “Look at us, a couple of proper princesses.”

Elena smiled, “Shall we go? Father must have made his entrance by now. They’ll be waiting for their guest of honour. We might as well go together.”

Mithian thought that that wasn’t really proper, but she didn’t really care anymore; she opened up her arm for Elena to intertwine hers with. They smiled at each other and went to the feast.

* * *

 

At one point during the feast, Mithian escaped to a balcony overlooking the Royal Gardens.

“So,”—Mithian slightly got startled—“the war is won,” Elena said from behind her.

“Yes.”

She hugged her arms closer to herself. It was not because of the cold.

“They are already preparing your things, you’ll be gone and back to your people in no matter of time.”

“Yes.”

Elena was now standing next to her.

“Aren’t you happy to finally be going back, Princess Mithian?”

_no_

“Of course.”

Elena looked at her, but Mithian didn’t have the strength to look her in the eyes.

Mithian cleared her throat, “Although, I will miss our races.”

Elena chuckled, “Well, Nemeth and Gawant are only a few days ride away of each other,”—she smirked—“If you're fast.”

“And we all know how much we like riding.” It came out drier than she had intended.

Elena sighed, smiled and laid her hand on Mithian’s shoulder. “I’ve really enjoyed our time together, I’m honoured to call you my friend.”

Mithian couldn’t take it anymore, she turned her eyes—threatening to spill—to Elena. “I’m not so sure I can say the same.”

“Mithian?”

Elena’s eyes were full of worry. Mithian braved on; still looking in Elena’s eyes she continued, “I’m not sure I want you to only see me as...a friend.”

She heard more than saw Elena took a deep breath, and she thought she could see hope in her eyes. But maybe it was her own hope she tried to reflect, as the blonde princess was looking even more glum.

“Oh?”

Mithian looked down now, “The feelings I have for you are,”—she fumbled with her hands—“different.”

Elena closed her eyes, let out a breath, and as she reopened her eyes, Mithian was granted a smile again, but it was sadder than any she had ever seen before. Mithian has never seen Elena smile like that, she’d had the pleasure of being accorded the most beautiful smiles from her _friend,_ during her entire stay here _._

“But it cannot be,” Elena whispered.

Mithian fully turned to her, determined; she took both of Elena’s hands firmly in hers, not leaving her gaze. “You once were happy to decline a man’s hand in marriage because you did not love him. Are you really prepared to marry one now anyways?,” she shook her head, frustrated, tears were forming in her eyes, “A man?” she pressed, “Who you do not love?”

Elena had not left her gaze or flinched once, but her eyes were wet. She then looked down at their hands and whispered, “For my kingdom,”—she looked back up—“yes.”

Mithian's whole neck was wet at this point. “It’s not fair.”

Elena held her cheek and whispered, “No, no it is not.”

Elena brushed her hand on Mithian's cheek before threading her hand in her hair. She rests her forehead on Mithian’s; they close their eyes, both breath shaking. Then Elena leaned in closer, brushing their lips before softly kissing her. It was short but tender, and over way too soon.

“Until our next horse race,” Elena whispered on her lips.

Without moving away, their eyes met. Elena smirked, cheeks still wet with tears, “Can’t wait to beat you again.”

Mithian had never been in love before, she had never even let herself dream of marrying for love. She had been happy when the closest she got to a happy marriage, was marrying a kind king. A respectful man, who she had a managed to have a friendly bond with. But here and now, she finally knew what it meant. She finally understood the buzz people described. She understood Arthur. She understood why he would have risked war for it. She understood why she had never been able to love any man courting her…

Now she knew what longing felt like, what love felt like. She understood the throbbing pain love could cause now too. It was like continuing to gallop through a storm. Because riding felt amazing, even through the pain; it was always worth it.

Mithian took hold of Elena’s hands again and smiled. “I love you Elena.”

Mithian could feel Elena’s panic rise, and when she opened her mouth to reply, Mithian shushed her. She knew Elena was not going to say it back, saying it back made it real, and Elena was going to put her kingdom first. Mithian was done doing that to her heart anymore.

“Until the next time _you’ll_ lose a race against me,” she smirked, and with a heavy heart, she walked away...


End file.
